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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952820">A Mask of My Own Face</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoldestsister/pseuds/theoldestsister'>theoldestsister</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) is in Prison, Dream and Ranboo play 20 questions until they either kill each other or become friends, Dream manipulates minors (again), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hybrids, Minor Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Protective Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo takes one for the team and takes the brunt of Dream's manipulation, Snowchester (Video Blogging RPF), Toby | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit Friendship, Toby | Tubbo and Ranboo Friendship, Trauma, Warden Sam | Awesamdude, canon is what I say it is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:28:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoldestsister/pseuds/theoldestsister</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dream gets sent to jail, Ranboo can't help but feel guilty about him being in there all alone... So he decides to visit. What's the worst that could come out of a simple game of 20 questions?</p><p>“I have a theory about you, Ranboo.”</p><p>“What’s that?” Ranboo asks, hesitantly looking back toward Dream’s mask. </p><p>“I think you remember more than you let on.” Dream says, his voice lowering, as if telling a dirty secret. “What’s wrong, Ranboo? Cat got your tongue?”</p><p>Ranboo stops breathing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Grayson | Purpled &amp; Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>639</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The First Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from A Mask of My Own Face by Lemon Demon (dang you Ranboo, getting me into them)</p><p>This is an AU based on a different confrontation between Dream and Ranboo and subsequent events that happen because of it. I'm actually writing this before the offical confrontation so who knows how accurate this is gonna be lmao. I'm basically using whatever canon I want, so character relationship will be slightly different FYI. </p><p>Warning: Dream being character Dream</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In a world where everyone chooses sides, no one has ever chosen Ranboo’s.</p><p>January is cold, but the snowy tundra makes the winter months nearly unbearable. It doesn’t help that Tubbo lives in a snowy taiga and Tommy lives in the one place he’s been consistently avoiding for months — since L’Manberg became L’Manhole. His own home is <em>less </em> than optional if he wants his friends to come out <em>alive</em>. Leaving him with either snow or… deadlier snow to choose from when spending time with his friends.</p><p>(Not that either of them can know he lives right next to Techno. Nope, that is a conversation he’s continuing to avoid.)</p><p>According to his memory book, Dream is in Pandora’s Box. And, based on the stories he can vaguely remember and the passionate way both Tommy and Tubbo have ranted about Dream’s dickish behavior, that’s probably a good thing. He’ll be real: he had no clue this server even <em> had </em>a prison. Is that bad? Was that more common knowledge he missed?</p><p>Whatever. He’s probably just overthinking again. </p><p>It's Sunday, maybe four or so days since Dream’s imprisonment. Based on the whispers around the server, Tommy’s visit with Dream confirmed just how secure the prison was, with the check-in taking nearly half an hour, and requiring two respawns. Tommy complained about how Sam was acting “totally weird” for almost an hour after he returned, which resulted in Ranboo and Tubbo playing a game of <em> how long can we play pictionary until Tommy realizes we’re not paying attention to him </em>. The game ended shortly after Jack Manifold joined, as Tommy immediately lost his train of thought and tried to mess with Jack as much as possible.</p><p>Either way, Ranboo gleaned <em> something </em> from Tommy’s rambles: visiting the prison isn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, especially with Sam at the head. </p><p>So he’s not sure <em> why </em> he wants to visit. The prison seems terrifying, and it’s not like he <em> needs </em>to see Dream to settle some score or to renounce their friendship: as far as Ranboo knows (despite that voice’s lies) he and Dream have never actually spoken. </p><p>Yet here he is, shooting Sam a message out of the blue, asking for a visit. The almost immediate, enthusiastic response nearly makes him drop his communicator. </p><p><em>awesamdude whispers to you:</em> <em>Yeah I’m free right now! Just head over to the prison and I’ll meet you there :D</em></p><p>Despite the cheerful message, Sam is cold and professional when Ranboo greets him. His warden gear is large and imposing, highlighted with lapis and red stone. Even his sword has a shining golden handle, engraved with words mostly hidden by Sam’s gloved hand. The lapis enchantments make the black sword shimmer a glimmering purple in the light.</p><p>Even with all of that, he smiles sympathetically when Ranboo slowly puts his memory book into the locker. He never extends any comforting words, but he does give Ranboo a few seconds to still his shaking hands. Sam also passes him a skin-tight suit before they pass through the water tunnel. Ranboo wasn’t aware that Sam knew of his aversion to water.</p><p>As soon as they pass through, Sam takes it back, leaving Ranboo feeling weirdly naked. He shivers, feeling the ghosts of long-tried purple tears drip into his hair. Sam’s dark creeper eyes are ever present, always watching; Ranboo awkwardly shifts as they wait for the lava to finish its descent. </p><p>The entire prison is terrifyingly secure: with more waivers than he’s ever seen in his life, and multiple water <em> and </em> lava pathways. Somehow, Sam has rigged the area so his limbs feel sluggish; Ranboo’s arms move slowly, as if he’s fallen into the lava under the nether hub again. There’s no way anyone could get out of here.</p><p>His fingers are twitching and he feels the odd desire to move one of the blocks nearby, even though it would take <em> forever </em> to shift it out of place, yanking it from the wall or pulling it from the floor. </p><p>The lava is gone and Ranboo meets the painted-on eyes of that dreaded porcelain mask. </p><p>Heterochromatic eyes shift to the platform, staying locked to the engraved stone as it transports him to the cell as he makes his way over. He can’t quite remember why he’s here, why he thought it was a good idea to visit Dream. </p><p>Dream looks small without his glinting netherite armor and glowing sword. Just a hoodie, worn jeans, and painted-on smile. </p><p>Dream’s cell is… small. Too small, but too familiar. He can almost see the purple dripping from the ceiling, soaking his hair and staining his suit. He reaches up to check — just in case — but his hair is as dry as bone. </p><p>It feels inhumane to keep someone in such a small room — Dream only has a sink, a chest, and a lectern. No chair, no bed — not even a table. Just a place to pace and a clock to keep time. </p><p>“Hello.” Dream says. He’s leaning against the wall, his clothes rumbled. Has he been sleeping on the floor? Has he been sleeping at all?</p><p>“Hi.” Ranboo responds politely. The silence sits in the air, the obsidian walls suffocating. Ranboo feels himself grow tense as the seconds tick by. </p><p>“I’m gonna be real, Ranboo,” Dream drawls, “I have no idea why you’re here — we’ve barely even talked. What, do you want an apology for the whole <em> telling Tubbo you’re a traitor </em> thing?”</p><p>“N—no. No, I don’t.” Ranboo knows that, at least.</p><p>“Okay, then what do you want? Tommy has all my items, and as far as I know, I’ve never hurt you — directly, at least,” Dream’s voice has an edge to it, one that instantly elicits fear. Still, Ranboo keeps his voice firm.</p><p>“You’ve hurt more people than you think.”</p><p>“Oh, <em> have I </em>?” Dream’s hand shifts, fingers twitching toward where his axe would normally be. He stands up abruptly, a contrast to his usual graceful movements. “At this point I’m wondering if my memory is going — with all the trouble I’ve apparently caused? A lot more people <em>suddenly </em>hate me; compared to — I don’t know, a month ago?”</p><p>“That sucks,” Ranboo automatically, then shakes his head, clearing the urge to be polite. “I mean, it’s totally deserved — you're kind of a jerk, man.”</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>, but I was a jerk before and I wasn’t hated by the entire server.” Dream starts to pace. Ranboo has never, ever seen him this restless, this animated. “They were a <em> family </em> — I wanted them to be a family, to work together, but—but—”</p><p>Ranboo watches him, completely unsure what he’s supposed to do. Tommy said Dream was faking his remorse, to be wary of his words. This isn’t— he never expected...</p><p>“You— you hurt Tommy,” He says, slow. </p><p>“I <em> apologized.” </em>Dream replies, dismissive.</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>Dream’s footsteps stutter. “For everything that I did.”</p><p>“Oh really?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>Dream’s normally pristine boots have become scuffed without their usual layer of netherite. Ranboo wonders how long it’ll take to wear through the soles. </p><p>“You know.” Dream recovers, but Ranboo isn’t having it. </p><p>“No— no, I really don’t. I don’t think <em> anyone </em> does. But I do have an <em> idea</em>, since I was one of the few people to actually visit Tommy. I don’t think anyone realizes how much you put him through— honestly, I don’t think <em> Tommy </em> fully gets it.”</p><p>Dream stares. Ranboo’s fists clench, but he keeps his voice level. </p><p>“That’s what you want, don’t you? For Tommy to forget how much you’ve hurt him, hurt <em> everyone</em>. You can do that so easily, y’know? I watched you do it with Fundy; somehow, you convinced the son of <em> Wilbur Soot</em> you were in love with him. If you can do <em> that</em>, what’s tricking some kid into letting you out of this place?”</p><p>Ranboo finally stands up straight, letting his height speak for him. He’s only started doing so around Phil recently, since he doesn’t shy away from his stature, despite the half a foot or so between them. </p><p>Before the Dream SMP — back when he fought for hours upon hours in Hypixel, exchanging his hard-earned points for food or shelter — he never let his full height show. He refused to rely upon his stature; not when in the midst of battle, and certainly not when stood upon the gleaming podiums that made him feel like everyone on the server had eyes on him.</p><p>Because hybrids are scary. Strange. <em> Dangerous</em>. <em> Unpredictable</em>. Especially <em> hostile </em>hybrids. </p><p>Technoblade lessened the critical eye cast upon all hybrids — back when he ruled the leaderboards, uncaring of what others thought. But there’s a difference between Techno’s sharpened tusks and the eyes of an enderman — the piercing glare that makes its way into your very soul — and their instinctual need to take and take and <em> take </em>. </p><p>He liked how accepting the Dream SMP was, both passive and hostile hybrids found throughout the server. But he still refused to stand up straight — it felt strange, almost disrespectful, with how trusting, how <em> kind</em>, people are. No taunts, no side-eyes — nothing. </p><p>But that could go away in a second if he spoke up, revealed his instincts. Show them what he’s like when he isn’t the quiet figure in the back, but the screaming nightmare of a mob his genetics told him he was. </p><p>But here…</p><p>Who cares what <em> Dream </em>thinks of him?</p><p>“I promise you, Dream,” Ranboo says, keeping his eyes trained on the mask, unblinking. “I won’t let him forget anything you did— <em> anything</em>. So know, deep down in that space where you pretend to have a heart, that if he forgives you, it's for everything— <em> everything.</em> And... who knows how long that’s gonna take.”</p><p>Dream stares. His hands are stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie. </p><p>“Is that it?” Dream asks, tilting his head mockingly. “You just came to threaten me? Did that make you feel better, yelling at someone who’s unable to leave? To attack you? Did that make you feel all <em> big </em> and <em> powerful</em>, Ranboo?”</p><p>Breath stuttering, all the confidence abruptly disappears as he glances at the lava. <em> Sam, please make this the perfect time to come and ask if I want to leave </em>—</p><p>“I have a theory about you, Ranboo.”</p><p>“What’s that?” Ranboo asks, hesitantly looking back toward Dream’s mask. </p><p>“I think you remember more than you let on,” Dream says, his voice lowering. “What’s wrong, Ranboo? <em> Cat </em> got your tongue?”</p><p>Ranboo’s heart skips a beat.</p><p>“<em>Guard! </em>” Dream calls. He hears Sam’s muffled voice behind the sea of lava, asking what the problem is. “Ranboo wants to leave.”</p><p>Ranboo doesn’t say anything, just silently waits for the lava to lower. He doesn’t register the walk out at all, doesn’t look back even though he can feel Dream’s eyes on him. </p><p>The world blurs. </p><p>——</p><p>
  <em> Visited Dream in the prison. He knows. He knows. He knows.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Protect Tommy, remind him of everything Dream’s done to him. Don’t let Dream get into his head.  </em>
</p><p><em> DREAM IS THE REASON.</em> </p><p>——</p><p>He avoids the prison, avoids the thought of going back there. Every day he coaches Tommy, reminds him to remember. Tubbo jokes that they ‘<em>don’t need another Memory Boy around here</em>’ when Tommy complains. </p><p>Every day he watches Tommy enter the prison, wonders when Dream will tell him. When Tommy will <em> glare </em> at him and mean it. When the peace will shatter, just like it always does.</p><p>Every day that Tommy comes out and smiles, Ranboo nearly cries — metaphorically, of course — with relief.</p><p>——</p><p>“Hey, Ranboo— Ranboo, did you hear?” </p><p>Ranboo blinks out of his daze, finding himself looking out over the frozen coastline of Snowchester. Tubbo is leaning against a fence post, a hoe in hand. The freshly-tilled farm sits behind him, Foolish quietly replanting the crops. </p><p>“Hear what?” Ranboo asks. Tubbo bounces on the soles of his feet. </p><p>“Apparently, Dream and Tommy got in a <em> huge </em>fight. Tommy tried to tell me about it, but I got a bit distracted, I’ll be honest. I think one of them got tossed in lava at one point! I think Sam had to step in and separate them?” Tubbo tilts his head in thought before grinning, bright and excited, “Pretty crazy, though, right?”</p><p>“Yeah...” Ranboo stares at the water. He feels himself pull out his notebook, opening up to the latest entry, dated two weeks ago. </p><p>“Looks like Tommy’s gonna be free again. About time, honestly. No offence, but he’s <em> way </em> funnier than you.” Tubbo teases, then sobers. “That book you gave him — the one he’s been writing stuff down in? He told me it’s really helped him.”</p><p>Right — they had been helping Tommy, encouraging him to talk about his time in exile, to remember Dream as he was, as he <em> truly </em> was. </p><p>“Oh. Ye—yeah, that’s cool. Glad I could… glad I could help,” Ranboo scratches the back of his neck. </p><p>“He won’t tell you, but he’s really grateful,” Tubbo leans closer, voice lowering. “You did a good thing, Ranboo.”</p><p>He stares at the pages. Should he write that down? </p><p>Considering Tommy hasn’t stormed up to him, demanding an explanation, a reason for his treachery, Ranboo thinks he’s safe. </p><p>Did he help Tommy without ruining everything?</p><p>“Thanks, Tubbo.”</p><p>“No problem, Mr. Boo!” Tubbo laughs, bright and calm. He seems more relaxed now, aiding the collective instead of leading a government. Ranboo’s happy for him. </p><p>The past two weeks have mostly been spent with Tommy and Tubbo — Techno and Phil have been busy on a ‘secret project,’ so he’s been avoiding them. He knows he’s always welcome at Snowchester, Tubbo ready to theorize about Ranboo’s possible abilities. Tommy likes having someone who will listen, someone who isn’t ride or die like Tubbo. It’s been good, staying with people who like him. </p><p>(A traitorous thought whispers — <em> if it was between you and Tommy, Tubbo would </em> always <em> choose Tommy. </em><em>Every time. Who would ever choose you?)  </em></p><p>He stares at the pages of his book. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, right next to those traderious thoughts, is a simple question: Why didn’t Tommy tell him himself?</p><p>He knows it's a self-centered thought, but he can’t help but wonder; was the fight about him? Did Dream tell Tommy something? Prime, is there even anything to tell? His memory grows more faulty by the day, and he can never be sure what anxiety wrote up and what he’s actually done.</p><p>“Is there anyone visiting him anymore at this point?” Ranboo asks, hoping that Tubbo can’t read his thoughts. </p><p>“Probably not,” Tubbo says, blunt as ever. “Honestly, I don't think anyone actually <em> likes </em>hanging out with Dream. He’s kinda like an annoying, green mosquito, he is.”</p><p>Ranboo snorts, relaxing. “Tubbo, I have <em> no </em> idea what that means.”</p><p>“Do you not?” Tubbo tilts his head. “Well, ‘cause, y’know, mosquitos are annoying and they suck your blood <em> and </em> leave welts that hurt for a long time <em> and </em> they usually live in swamps. Dream seems like the type of guy to hang out in swamps for fun.”</p><p>Ranboo shakes his head, laughing at Tubbo’s rambles. Dream does seem like the type to live in a swamp, all things considered. Swamps are large and lonely with <em> way </em> too much water. The only people who live there are witches — clerics ostracized from villages because of their obsession with the dark, with creating potions that harm instead of heal. </p><p>Point is —  Dream’s all alone. No one to manipulate, to yell at. </p><p>Is that good?</p><p>Is it bad that he feels weirdly sympathetic, under all his worry?</p><p>“I think...” Ranboo pauses, unsure how to phrase this. With a false bravado, he says, “I’ll let him know you said that.”</p><p>“Will you?”</p><p>Ranboo looks toward Tubbo, checking out his expression in his peripheral. Tubbo looks completely confused. </p><p>“You’re visiting Dream, then? Again? What, you want to yell at him or something?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Ranboo shrugs, staring at the page. </p><p><em> Dream is the reason </em>. </p><p>“Or something, I guess.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Second Visit (+a Hypixel interlude)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ranboo visits the prison, and plays a game of 20 questions</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The prison is unchanged when Ranboo visits again. Same high, blackstone walls, same weird aura which makes Ranboo’s hand move in slow motion. Same anxiety which sits in Ranboo’s stomach like a rock. </p><p>When he presses the button to call down the guards, it’s Bad who greets him, smiling brightly when he walks through the portal. He seems so… unconcerned with the possibility of Dream’s escape that it, weirdly, settles Ranboo’s nerves. </p><p>“Ranboo!” Bad greets, shoving his gleaming netherite sword into its sheath to shake Ranboo’s gloved hand. Ranboo tries to smile in response. </p><p>“Hi, Bad. You on shift today, then?”</p><p>“Yup!” Bad points behind him. “I think Sam’s inside messing with some stuff. You need something?”</p><p>“Um, I was actually, uh, hoping to visit Dream.”</p><p>“Oh!” Bad blinks, then laughs a bright melody. “Sorry, you’re the first one to try since Tommy gave up, uh, six days ago maybe? You want to beat him up or something? Because Sam said no more beating in case Dream gets one of the weapons again.”</p><p>Ranboo blinks. “Uh, no, no, I’m good. Just wanted to talk, I guess.”</p><p>“He hasn’t really been in the mood for talking lately, so good luck. He’s in the courtyard because of good behavior.”</p><p>Bad makes idle chat as they check him in, screening his gear and assuring him everything will be safe. They let him keep his memory book this time, with the promise that it never leaves his pocket. Bad winks at him when he leaves, and Ranboo’s not sure if it’s because Bad’s in a playful mood or if he thinks the book is secretly a way to break Dream out and he’s giving permission. </p><p>Maybe Ranboo’s overthinking this. </p><p>Whatever. </p><p>The spine of the memory book stretches out the front pocket of his suit, but keeping it anywhere else feels wrong. Without his netherite armor, or Bad by his side, leading him down, the hallways feel long and imposing. The obsidian reminds him of things he would rather forget. </p><p>Bad had shooed him along a few hallways back, saying something along the lines of, “I’m sure you know the way from here.” Ranboo wasn’t brave enough to correct him. </p><p>He’s sure in a few hours Bad will abruptly remember Ranboo’s memory problem and feel <em> very guilty, </em>but the idea of turning around and trying to find Bad in this confusing maze seems worse. </p><p>Instead he keeps walking forward, and is eventually rewarded with a new cell. </p><p>The courtyard, Bad had called it, seemed huge compared to Dream’s cell. It’s maybe ten blocks across, four high. Maybe enough room to jump around from bed to furnace to floor. </p><p>There’s only a white bed in the room, unmade. The bed’s pillow is lying on the floor, right next to where Dream is sitting. From the position, and how messy the back of Dream’s hair is, Ranboo guesses that Dream had been laying on the floor. </p><p>“You're back.” Dream says, voice waiving. Ranboo’s steps don’t stutter. They don’t. But his heart shoots out of his chest. </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>There’s a line of iron bars separating them, making it hard to see Dream, so Ranboo continues along, following the sign labeled ‘<em> visitors </em>’. Dream’s eyes follow from beneath the mask. </p><p>The room he enters is made of quartz, with one wall made entirely of glass. There’s a table and chair against the glass, and on the other side, inside of Dream’s cell, another table and chair mirror it. </p><p>Ranboo sits awkwardly, clicking a button which opens the shutters between them, revealing to Dream the visitors room. Dream stares at it, at <em> him </em>, for a few seconds, unmoving. </p><p>“Why are you here?” Dream asks. </p><p>The room is bare. So bare. The floor, the walls, the ceiling — all obsidian. It’s lit up by sea lanterns, making everything seem clinical. It makes Ranboo recoil, the idea of being stuck here. </p><p>And then there’s Dream, in the middle of it all. Armorless. Still wearing a green hoodie, white porcelain mask, fingerless gloves… and with bed-head. </p><p>He looks so… small. </p><p>Yeah, everyone looks small to Ranboo (especially Tubbo, Jesus that boy had so much energy in such a short frame), but compared to the Dream that screamed to everyone that <em> Ranboo was a traitor </em>, the Dream that broke Tubbo down to nothing, that brought Tommy to the brink of suicide—</p><p>This Dream seems... weak. </p><p>And that pulls on Ranboo’s heart a bit. </p><p>It shouldn’t. It <em> really shouldn’t. </em>He’s read the stories in Ghostbur’s library, heard some of them from Tommy and Tubbo themselves. Seen the way Dream weaves himself into things, attaching himself like a leech, sucking up all the positive feelings and replacing them with doubt, fear, and violence. </p><p>Now- the slump of his shoulders, the wrinkles in his hoodie, the way he seems to hide behind an invisible wall, prepared for a hit that won’t come. Ranboo’s seen that before, over two months ago now. </p><p>Tommy’s eyes lost their color in exile, the bright, sky blue turning a dull gray. He can’t see Dream’s eyes — <em> doesn’t really want to, if he’s honest </em>— but he has a feeling they’re losing their color. </p><p>It could be a trick. Dream’s known for his tricks.</p><p>But... what’s a little compassion? A little kindness? The guy is already trapped in an impossible to escape prison, alone and bored out of his mind. It’s not like he’s going to help him escape <em> physically </em>, just, like, let him get out of his head for a bit? Maybe? </p><p>“How are you?” Ranboo asks, trying to sound flippant. It comes out more stilted. </p><p>Dream actually sits back slightly. “What?” Ranboo can’t remember ever hearing Dream sound so confused. “Wait, you’re seriously…” Dream gestures around him. “I’m locked in a prison; how do you think I’m doing?”</p><p>“Oh, right. Stupid question, sorry.” Ranboo clears his throat. He feels the eyes, so he looks at the wall instead. “I meant like, uh.” He looks to the ceiling. “You like obsidian?”</p><p>“...Yeah.” Dream says slowly. “I’m a bit tired of it now, but it’s still a good block.</p><p>“That's cool.” Ranboo nods. “I like dirt. Grass, you know? Maybe it’s my endermen side, I donno, who knows if block preference is inherited.”</p><p>“Okay.” Dream is holding onto his ankle rather tightly, curled into himself from his position seated on the floor. “Is there a reason you’re here?”</p><p>“Uh.” Ranboo blanks. “I heard about your fight with Tommy.”</p><p>He closes his eyes. <em> Gosh, why does he always do this? </em> </p><p>“Come to gloat then?” Dream asks. His tone is carefully neutral, which makes Ranboo instinctually glance over. </p><p>It’s in the slump of his shoulders, the curl of his back: Dream is upset and defensive, but he’s not throwing Ranboo betrayal in his face like he thought he would. Did he overthink? Did he jump to conclusions again? The voice is a liar, a dirty liar, why did he believe it?</p><p>Maybe Dream just isn’t mentioning it. Should Ranboo mention it? Confess his worries to someone who <em> definitely shouldn’t know his worries </em>-</p><p>“I don’t know why I’m here.” He settles on, interrupting his thoughts. “I don’t need anything from you Dream. I’m just… I’m curious, I guess.”</p><p>The stare is piercing, making his leg bounce erratically under the table. He’s already a bit awkwardly fitted, his legs slightly too long, so it takes a good chunk of concentration to make sure he doesn’t hit the table with his knee. He almost misses it, almost. But Dream-</p><p>Dream nods. “Okay,” he says quietly, going back to staring at one of the obsidian walls. “I guess I’m curious too.”</p><p>“About what?” What could Ranboo possibly know that Dream doesn’t?</p><p>“About you, obviously.” Dream says flippantly. “There’s something that makes you tic, Ranboo, but I haven’t figured out what it is yet.”</p><p>“Oh, well. Well that’s,” Ranboo laughs softly, “that’s not scary at all, nope.”</p><p>Maybe he imagines it, but he swears, for just a second, that Dream’s cheek twitches as if, underneath the mask, he’s smiling. Ranboo feels pride lick at his toes, making him sit up a bit straighter. It’s been awhile since he’s made someone other than Tommy or Tubbo laugh. </p><p>“So, if you’re not here to yell at me: how do you want to do this?” Dream tilts his head towards him, but doesn’t look at him. </p><p>“Do this?”</p><p>“<em> Talk </em> . I’m getting a bit <em> sick </em>of being constantly interrogated by Tommy. Change things up, Ranboo.”</p><p>“Umm….” Ranboo’s leg bounces. “Let’s do 20 questions.”</p><p>He can <em> feel </em>the incredulity through the glass. “20 questions? Wha- what are we, 5?”</p><p>Ranboo shrugs. “You got a better idea?”</p><p>The silence speaks for itself. </p><p>“I’ll start.” Ranboo says, false bravo in his voice. </p><p>He’s always hated 20 questions — too many opportunities for the conversation to go south, or even die off. Why did he think this was a good idea? </p><p>“What’s something you’re proud of that you don’t tell people about?”</p><p>Dream laughs. “Starting out deep, okay.” His head <em> thunks </em> back against the nearby wall. “When, uh,” he glances at Ranboo, “you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” </p><p>Ranboo nods quickly. Dream eyes him for a few more seconds, so Ranboo quickly says. “It won’t leave my memory book.” Which makes Dream laugh, for some reason. </p><p>“Okay… so, for George’s 21st birthday, <em> everyone </em> got him these drinking gifts as a joke, you know? And he laughs it off and stuff, but over the next few weeks he slowly returned them to the store and stuff. But <em> my </em>gift wasn’t a joke: George is color blind, so I made him these white goggles with color-correcting lenses. I figured they might, you know, help him in battle or something.”</p><p>It takes Ranboo a few seconds to place George in his mind, but once he’s there, he realizes. “Are those the goggles-“</p><p>“That he always wears? Yup.” Dream sounds so smug, but Ranboo doesn’t find himself recoiling from the sound. “I never bragged because I didn’t want to make everyone feel bad about George returning their gifts, but seeing him wear them, watching him pull them on and smile…”</p><p>“That’s really cool.” Ranboo says, gentle. “I bet they remind him of you, how great of a friend you were.”</p><p>The silence is suddenly sitting on his tongue, and Ranboo wonders what he said wrong. </p><p>“I’ll go, I guess.” Dream interrupts it. “Who’s someone on the server you would give up a life for?” Ranboo raises an eyebrow, and Dream shrugs. “I was clear about what I want from this. You don’t <em> have </em>to answer, but I answered your question when I didn’t have to.”</p><p>Ranboo sighs. “Fine, but I’m answering because I <em> want </em>to.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Ranboo thinks about it. “I would die for a lot of people, Dream. If I think someone would do more good with my life than I would, than I would give them my life.”</p><p>“Well that’s fucking stupid.” Dream chuffs. </p><p>“Yeah, it is.” Ranboo agrees, embarrassment making his toes twitch. “But it’s the truth.”</p><p>Dream’s hums. It takes Ranboo a few seconds to remember it’s his turn. </p><p>“Oh, right. What, uh, what do you and Tommy talk about when he visits. Or- used to.”</p><p>“He hasn’t told you?” Dream asked, surprised. </p><p>“It hasn’t gotten brought up.”</p><p>In all honesty, Ranboo’s been afraid to ask. Tommy always seems so <em> rattled </em> after visiting Dream: either he comes out a bit too loud, a bit too rude, or he completely shuts down, quiet and distant. Only Tubbo can talk to him then (a fact which doesn’t keep Ranboo up at night, it doesn’t).</p><p>“Okay, I believe you.” Dream says, voice back to that infuriating neutral drawl. “He mostly interrogates me. Asks me about my motivations, how I know things, why I did things. He asks the same questions a lot, ‘<em> why did you do that? Why did you do that?’ </em> Like I’m not <em> telling </em>him.”</p><p>Dream huffs. Ranboo doesn’t know him well enough to figure out if it’s a laugh or not. </p><p>“You know me, Ranboo: I’m an honest guy. It’s not like I’m <em> lying </em> to him about it constantly, what would I even gain from that?”</p><p>“Actually, I don’t know you.” Ranboo frowns, perturbed. “But I do know people. You have a <em> lot </em> to gain from lying to him, Dream, especially if the truth permanently cements his hatred for you. Is that what happened? You said something that made him realize you’re impossible to save?”</p><p>“You really think that?” Dream asks. His voice shakes in a way that makes Ranboo’s stomach drop, anxiety choking his throat. “Do-Do you think I’m impossible to save?”</p><p>Ranboo closes his eyes. “I don’t know.” He confesses. “It depends on how real your sadness is, I guess.” He clenched his teeth, spitting out, “Did seeing Tommy in exile inspire you to give him a taste of his own medicine?”</p><p>There’s a silence.“I believe it’s my turn, Ranboo.” Dream responds evenly. And isn’t that an answer in itself. </p><p>Dream stares at him. Ranboo can’t read his mind, but he can read the twitching of his index finger, the way he subtly tries to look around. His jaw trembles beneath the mask, and Ranboo can’t tell if he’s suppressing tears or rage. </p><p>Ranboo sits back, gesturing for Dream to continue. </p><p>“What has Tubbo been up to? Tommy never lets me talk about him, and it’s peaked my interest.” Dream says. Ranboo shifts slightly, letting the silence stretch as he considers the ramifications of answering. </p><p>“What could you possibly want to know?” Ranboo asks, cautious. </p><p>“Anything new, I guess.” Dream shrugs. “I know everyone on the server, Ranboo, but being stuck in here makes it hard to get updates. I doubt, you know, Purpled or Ponk has suddenly decided to build a new nation or start a war: they always prefer themselves to choosing sides.”</p><p>“They do?” Ranboo blurts. He’s barely interacted with either of them, besides when he visits Purple’s farm to get food. “Sorry, just- they <em> always </em>stay neutral? Do they just not care?”</p><p>“They care about the people <em> in </em> the conflict, but not the conflict itself. Tommy, Tubbo, and Purpled used to hang out all the time before the war, but once those walls got built…” Dream drifts off. “Ponk and Sam are good friends, too, from what I know. But Ponk isn’t Badlands. Or- he wasn’t when I was thrown in here.”</p><p>Ranboo’s thoughts race. <em> They stayed neutral. People can stay neutral and, sometimes, keep their friends. Maybe you can tell them, tell Tommy that you don’t want to choose a side. Tell Tubbo that you live next to Techno, but not because you support him, or choose anarchy. Maybe things can be better- </em></p><p>There’s movement in the cell, causing multi-colored eyes to snap up and watch a chilling smile stare at a wall.</p><p>“It’s why Purpled avoids people, you know.” Dream says, voice low. “Why do you think he spends so much time in Hypixel? Sides change by the hour over there; the only true loyalty is friendship. I don’t blame him honestly: losing two close friends and watching them stick with each other after ditching you?”</p><p>Dream’s mask turns and stares. </p><p>“Imagine how that feels.”</p><p>There’s an instinct that Ranboo’s heard about before, from Fundy and Antfrost mostly: the prey instinct. Fundy told him it’s like he’s frozen, waiting to either run or attack, every muscle tensed and waiting for battle. It’s uncontrollable, according to Antfrost, something passive hybrids like them have just gotten used to dealing with.</p><p>In all of his years, Ranboo has never, ever felt anything like that. Social anxiety, maybe. Fight or Flight is close. But this-</p><p>His tail is stock still, curved toward the floor in a black and white ark. He can’t move, he can’t look away. What’s- How’s</p><p>“You never answered my question. What’s Tubbo been up to?” Dream says, shattering the silence. </p><p>Ranboo blinks, blinks again and again until his eyes drop burning. His tail swishes behind him, and his nails, which have lengthened into black claws, cut into his palms. He clears his throat, trying to push whatever-whatever <em> that </em> was behind him.  </p><p>“Oh, um.” Ranboo takes a deep breath, trying to think, “He created a small village called Snowchester, declared it as independent, like, the day after you got thrown in here. It’s technically a collective, not a government, so Techno probably won’t destroy the place.”</p><p>The room is getting lighter, so Ranboo tries to relax into the uncomfortable metal chair. Dream is still sitting against the wall, casual as anything. He hums.</p><p>“That’s a thing, then? People are just declaring themselves independent from Dream SMP?” Dream shakes his head, chuffing, “Is there even anyone left at this point?”</p><p>“Uhh,” Ranboo blanks. “I’m gonna be real, I don’t pay that much attention to which side everyone’s on at this point. I’m kinda just chilling in the wide-open, middle of nowhere; it’s great.”</p><p>“I’m sure it is.” Dream says with false sweetness. Ranboo sighs at the guilt trip, ignoring it in favor of searching for another question. </p><p>“What’s, uh, what’s your favorite color?”</p><p>Dream barks out a laugh. “Oh Jesus.” He mutters. “We really ran out of good questions that fast?” When Ranboo only shrugs in response, he continues, “Green, obviously.” He says gesturing to his hoodie. </p><p>“Like- neon green?” </p><p>“Okay, maybe more of a forest green. Or, like, the color of flower stems?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I get you.”</p><p>For the life of him, Ranboo cannot remember what a flower stem looks like. </p><p>“I guess I’ll return the favor: what’s your favorite color, Ranboo?”</p><p>“Royal blue.” He says without thinking. Dream’s chin juts up, clearly amused. </p><p>“You knew that right away: how often are you asked that question?”</p><p>“When you’re friends with Tommy ‘I can’t do small talk’ Innit, surprisingly often.”</p><p>Dream laughs again, the bark of amusement drifting into a wheeze. Ranboo chuckles, half-smiling as he watches Dream laugh. Then he realizes it’s probably creepy to watch someone laugh, so he looks at the ceiling instead. </p><p>This is weird, right? They aren’t supposed to be getting along. This is supposed to be all sneers and barrs and insults until Ranboo eventually storms out -- and yeah, there was a <em> bit </em>of that. It certainly hasn’t all been jokes and stories. But-But Dream is evil, there shouldn’t be any jokes and stories. </p><p>Right?</p><p>There’s a crackle, interrupting Dream’s laughter suddenly and completely, then Bad’s voice floats over an invisible speaker. “Sorry to interrupt, guys! Ranboo- visiting hours are up. I’m coming by to grab you in a second, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.” Ranboo responds awkwardly, unsure if the speaker can even pick him up. There’s another crackle, then silence. Ranboo awkwardly stands up, pushing in the chair and waiting. </p><p>“See you never, then.” Dream says. He’s settled from his previous laughing fit, instead staring at the ceiling, voice carefully neutral. </p><p>Ranboo looks to the door, working his lip as he thinks. “Well, we never finished our game, did we?”</p><p>He feels eyes on him. He doesn’t look back when Bad ushers him out the door, but he does slow down when he gets to the nether portal, looking in the direction of Tommy’s house and wondering how many of Dream’s answers were truthful. </p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I visited Dream today. He seemed more subdued than last time. We played 20 questions. He told me that he’s proud of giving George a gift. Maybe he still has feelings? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tommy and Tubbo had another friend before. Purpled. They left him. Will they leave you? No. No you’re fine. I’m fine. You’re different. You’re fine.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He knows things. Ask him questions. Find out about the other side of the story.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don’t forget: Dream is the reason.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>The Hypixel marketplace is as chaotic as Ranboo remembers it being. Red, yellow, and white decor, highlighted by bright signs advertising new tournaments. People run past him — mostly young, maybe eleven or twelve. Ranboo doesn’t judge: he first started competing when he was eight. </p><p>There’s a few seasoned members that greet him as he passes. Captain Sparklez waves at him as he walks past, on his way to a meet and greet or something. He thinks he sees a glimpse of Hannah Rose, but there are a lot of people in the lobby, and she seems to be in a rush. Ranboo would hate to interrupt her just for a quick chat. </p><p>It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s here for a reason. </p><p>The <em> Bedwars </em>sign is eerily familiar as he walks past it, though a glimmering portal, which takes him straight into a grassy island covered in impossible to mine valuables. There he waits, sitting on a bench as crowds of people — some no more than 10, bright and bouncing with excitement, others walking with countless scars and a grim expression. All hoping to get a sliver of the prize. </p><p>Money is tight in Hypixel. Always has, always will be. It’s the way the rulers like it. </p><p>Ranboo stares at the scoreboard. During his time off spent in Dream SMP, Technoblade has fallen to third place, his first slot taken in his absence. Techno’s crown reflects the sunlight, the jewels inside -- red, pink, yellow -- highlighting the other colors of his outfit. His hair is longer in the statue than it is now, tied into a long, pink braid that brushes his knees. Ranboo’s grown used to Techno’s blue Arctic Empire outfit, his original red, royal robes almost nostalgic now. </p><p>Ranboo himself still sits at a comfortable eighteenth, which, among the hundreds of thousands of residents, is high. When he left he was maybe at twelfth, so he’s surprised he’s not back into the crowd of thousands, way, <em> way </em> down the scoreboard. Especially considering Ranboo doesn’t even live here anymore. </p><p>In ninth place, smirking with a sword frozen mid-strike, is Purpled. Wearing a loose purple hoodie and ripped black pants, he looks just like the other thousand teenagers who enjoy the PVP and violence of Bedwars. </p><p>“They got my eyes wrong.”</p><p>Ranboo jumps out of his skin, whirling around. Purpled is leaning on his forearms, supported by the back of the bench. </p><p>“My eyes are <em> purple, </em> right? That’s where I got my freaking name.” Purpled points toward his eyes indignantly, then gestures toward his frozen form on the scoreboard. “But look at that! They look freaking <em> gray </em> , what the hell? I don’t know who messed up, but once I get top five <em> you bet </em> I’m gonna complain until they make my eyes <em> glow </em> or something.”</p><p>“Top five?” Ranboo asks, incredulous. “Why would being top five be any different-“</p><p>“It just <em> will </em>. Don’t question me, Ranboo.”</p><p>“Okay, okay!” Ranboo raises up his hands in surrender. “Wait, seriously? That’s kinda- one question?”</p><p>Purpled stares. He’s right, the statue doesn’t capture their intensity. A deep, royal purple, one he didn’t think was possible on a human. Ranboo feels like he can’t even look away. It’s an echo of his conversation with Dream, nearly two days ago now. Is this what humans feel like when they look into the eyes of endermen?</p><p>“Okay, you can ask a <em> few </em> questions.” Purpled settles on. Ranboo opens his mouth, but Purpled holds up a hand. “ <em> During </em>a game of Bedwars. Come on, let’s play teams.”</p><p>Ranboo feels himself freeze. “I-I don’t know about—“</p><p>“Either you play teams or you leave. I’m not wasting daylight to answer stupid questions, Ranboo.” Purpled raises his eyebrows, impatiently waiting for an answer.</p><p>The scoreboard haunts his peripheral. He avoids looking at it, instead silently nodding. Ranboo follows him through the small lobby, keeping his head down in an attempt to escape the stares. A man in a suit stands by three open portals, handing out tickets for the next game. </p><p>“How did you know I’m here to ask you questions?” Ranboo asks, hands pinching the skin of his fingers and palm. “How did you know I was here in the first place?”</p><p>“I get notifications for whenever a top 30 gets online.” Purpled pulls out his communicator. “It used to be top 50, but that got boring. As for the questions thing: you’re not the type of guy to come to Hypixel to fight, Ranboo.”</p><p>Ranboo laughs. “Yeah, you could say that.”</p><p>“I mean— look at your picture: you look <em> miserable. </em>”</p><p>He can’t help it— Ranboo glances at the scoreboard, finally letting himself take in his frozen form. He’s wearing a suit, though the edges of his sleeves are dusted with gray, the remnants of dead players he hadn’t yet learned to wash off. His eyes are looking askance, and he’s tail is wrapped around one leg, as if ashamed. </p><p>He doesn’t like looking at it. Hates that everyone else looks at it all day. This conversation all but confirms how obviously uncomfortable he looks. </p><p>“I figured you were here to meet with someone, and then you head for the Bedwars lobby and stare at my statue for several minutes — you’re not hard to read, Ranboo.”</p><p>“Good to know.”</p><p>Getting back into the game is instinctual. He’s teleported into a green shelter, a wooden sword in hand and leather armor on his back. He grabs a handful of gold, buying an upgrade on the sword and a handful of wool. When he gets outside, Purpled is waiting for him on an already-built bridge. </p><p>“So, what do you want to know?” Purpled asks. “I know I’m crazy famous or whatever, but I’m getting a bit tired of giving out tips. There’s only so many times you can tell someone to practice without sounding like an asshole, you know?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.” Ranboo agrees, just to move the conversation along. “I’m actually not here to discuss Bedwars.”</p><p>Purpled snorts, throwing a fireball and leaping down to break the yellow team’s revealed bed. Ranboo hops down after him, quickly killing a yellow team member attempting to defend it. </p><p>“I don’t do much else other than Bedwars, dude.”</p><p>“You’re on the SMP.” </p><p>Purpled rolls his eyes. “Yeah, when I want to build a secret lair or make some quick cash. I go there to sleep and hang out with Ponk, man, I’m not involved in any of your weird wars.”</p><p>“No, no, neither am I.” Ranboo assures. Purpled shoots him a skeptical look. “Seriously! I’m just kinda friends with the people in the wars— on your left.”</p><p>Purpled swirls around, blocking a hit from a hidden yellow team member and quickly shoving them off the island. <em> Yellow team has been eliminated. </em> “Thanks. And whatever, man, I’m not one to judge. ”</p><p>“I just, uh,” Ranboo follows along as Purpled bridges to the next island jumping down to pick up the diamonds and emeralds, then quickly building back up. Purpled waits, clearly only half paying attention to the game. </p><p>“Looking for tips on how to stay neutral? Play Bedwars and avoid Dream and Tommy.”</p><p>“No, no, that’s not-“</p><p>“Though, now that I think about it, Dream’s in jail, isn’t he? What’s Tommy doing; is he in jail or exiled yet?”</p><p>“No,” Ranboo says slowly, mouth twisting in confusion. “He’s just been building and hanging out with Tubbo, mostly.”</p><p>“Makes sense. Hey, you got a fireball?” Purpled asks. Ranboo shakes his head. “Dang. Well, what’s life without a little danger?”</p><p>Ranboo watches him jump, then regretfully leaps after him. He handles the two people coming towards them, easily falling back into the rhythm of hitting, moving to the side, hitting. Purpled gets the bed, and together they kill the two teammates. </p><p>
  <em> Red Team is eliminated.  </em>
</p><p>Ranboo hears the tell-tale sound, and is unsurprised when, <em> Your bed has been destroyed, </em> flashes on the screen of his communicator. </p><p>“I’m surprised it took this long considering neither of us even put wool around it.” Purpled mutters. He’s building, precariously and fearlessly standing on the edge of their bridge to connect more wool. Ranboo looks around: Blue’s also lost their bed at some point, so its just about finding them. “Can you hurry up with the questions, Ranboo? I’m getting bored.” </p><p>“It’s, uh, well my question is actually about Tommy and Tubbo.” Ranboo blurts. Purpled stops, turning to face him. </p><p>“What makes you think I know anything about what they’re doing?” Purpled asks. </p><p>Ranboo takes in a sharp breath. “It’s just— Dream, um, Dream told me you were friends with them. Before, I mean.”</p><p>“Before L’Manberg?” Purpled asks. His communicator buzzes. A member of the blue team fell out of the world. </p><p>“Yeah. Is-Is that true?”</p><p>Purpled’s eyes narrow, and Ranboo kinda wanna to leap off the bridge and never talk again. He’s halfway through considering the idea when Purpled lets out a huff. </p><p>“He’s such a snitch.” He mutters, doing a running jump onto one of the middle islands, walking over and picking up a handful of diamond and emerald. Ranboo watches him walk back to the red team base, awkwardly shuffling in place as Purpled starts to trade. </p><p>“Can I ask what happened? Why did you…”</p><p>Purpled sighs. “I was hoping this was secretly your way of asking for an autograph or something. God, now I have to talk about the stupid SMP while playing <em> Bedwars </em>.”</p><p>“I mean, you-you don’t <em> have </em>to.”</p><p>“No, I’m going to.” Purpled waves him off, “You’ve forced my hand, Ranboo, making me promise you can ask questions before we started. Though, technically I never agreed to answer them.” Purpled hums, considering. Ranboo shakes his head again. </p><p>“You don’t have to. I just— maybe I want some advice? I’ve been hanging out with Tommy and Tubbo a lot, and I’ve been struggling to figure out how to tell them I don’t want to pick sides anymore.”</p><p>Purpled looks over, eyebrows raised. “Huh. I guess history really does repeat itself.”</p><p>Ranboo looks to the floor. </p><p>“Look— stop feeling bad, I can’t work with that, okay? Just…” Purpled looks to the ceiling of the red team’s alcove. “Don’t?”</p><p>Ranboo blinks. “Don’t what? Be friends with them?” Ranboo asks, half joking. Purpled sucks in air through his teeth, and Ranboo abruptly realizes he's hit the answer on the head again.</p><p>“Okay, that sounds bad.” Purpled head tilts as his face scrunches. “How do I say this without sounding like a tool. Tommy and Tubbo are... selfless, but only for each other.”</p><p>“I mean, yeah. I know that.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, good. Now stop hanging out with them.”</p><p>“I- <em> why? </em>”</p><p>Purpled taps his foot against the wooden floor. “Because they can’t get as attached to you as they are to each other? If you want to get your soul broken, be my guest. But if history is seriously repeating itself, that means you will start playing in Hypixel again. Which is fine! But I’m trying to have a chance at getting top five, and with you competing that will be significantly harder.”</p><p>“I-I’m not going to <em> stop being friends </em>with Tommy and Tubbo because they care about each other! That’s- how would I even explain that?”</p><p>“By saying, ‘sorry, I gotta go off in the woods and never talk to you again. I hope you stop being selfish pricks?” </p><p>Ranboo shakes his head stepping back. His tail curls around his leg, and he feels his fingers twitch with the desire to grab and place blocks. To just let himself get lost in the rhythm of running and placing without thinking. </p><p>He looks up when the silence drags on, meeting inquiring purple eyes. Purpled tilts his head, scrutinizing him. </p><p>“Look, Ranboo,” he finally says, slow and careful. “I’m not one to tell people how to live their lives, okay? But Tommy and Tubbo…” he drifts off, jaw clenching. “They’re just always going to choose each other, okay? So— be prepared for that.”</p><p>“I-I mean, I thought I was.” Ranboo says, looking at the floor. Beside them he hears the sounds of wool getting placed, but Purpled ignores it, so he does too. “I just— I don’t think somethings going to happen where they <em> have </em>to choose, you know? All the conflict seems to be over.”</p><p>Purpled sighs, pressing his lips together as he thinks. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ranboo, but don’t be stupid.” </p><p>Purpled steps closer, staring at him with intense, deep purple eyes. </p><p>“I didn’t think L’Manberg mattered, okay? And at first it didn’t. It was just Tommy and Tubbo doing drugs for laughs. But then a <em> war </em> happened, and when they asked, I refused to join in. <em> That’s </em>what broke us, not a conflict tearing us apart, but because they felt betrayed I wouldn’t die for a nation they created without me.”</p><p>Ranboo feels his eyes burn. </p><p>“Sound familiar?” Purpled guesses. He’s good at that. “Don’t be stupid, Ranboo. Always be prepared for the worst.”</p><p>Purpled abruptly turns, slicing his sword through the chestplate of a stranger, one right behind Ranboo. The stranger trips, falling backwards off the platform. </p><p>Fireworks go off around them. They won. </p><p>“Hit me up if you ever want to play again: you’re not that bad for someone who hates the game.”</p><p>Ranboo blinks, and finds himself back in the lobby. A message pings on his communicator. </p><p>
  <em>New friend request from Purpled!</em>
</p><p>He accepts it numbly. For someone who just won a game with one of the top players in Hypixel, he feels pretty awful. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I cannot describe the emotion I felt when i realized I wrote out a hypixel bedwars scene between two of my favorite minecraft youtubers oh my god anyway how's quarantine going for yall?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Line of Questioning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After a talk with a friend, Ranboo in confronted with the fact that his perception of people might not be as accurate as he thinks</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: Ranboo gets angry and ends up drawing blood while clenching his fist. It's not described in detail and is very brief.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> He was telling the truth. Dream was telling the truth. Went to Hypixel to ask Purpled. He seemed upset when I asked. What does that mean? Do they hate Purpled? Does Tubbo hate me?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He will. I know he will. He hates me. He’s going to hate me. He still doesn’t know about Techno, about the armor, about how I’ve never once been loyal. I betray everyone.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maybe… Am I worse than Dream? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No. No. No. No. Remember. Remember all the bad things he did. Remember. You have to remember.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>When Tubbo asks why he keeps going back, he tells him it’s curiosity. The morbid fascination of watching a man go through the same thing he forced a child to go through over a month ago now.</p><p>Which, honestly, is most of the truth. </p><p>But the visits are definitely mixed with the desire to learn more about the place he thought he knew everything about.</p><p>He forgets sometimes, that he’s <em> so new. </em>He’s read Ghostbur’s books, he knows the history. But there’s things the history books don’t mention: places that never see battle, people who choose neutrality over slides. </p><p>Ranboo thought he was alone in his thoughts against violence for so long, but really, L’Manberg just never cared to take note of people who thought like him. </p><p>Maybe it’s wrong to keep going back, to push their game of 20 questions to a number far past just 20, but Dream knows <em> so much. </em>He’s been here since the beginning, and, as much as the fact disgusts and terrifies Ranboo, Dream knows everyone on the server. </p><p>He likes hearing the stories from the “losing” side of history. Likes having the complete picture. Even though Dream’s side is biased, Ranboo knows Wilbur’s side was too. Take out the hatred, the curses, string in the details that one side skipped but the other glorified, and Ranboo finally has a picture. </p><p>A picture that’s almost a memory. Or similar to the way Ranboo experiences memories, at least. It has all the emotions of a memory, the actions, the trauma. Maybe it would be Dream’s memory? Or maybe just L’Manberg’s?</p><p>Does it really matter?</p><p>It becomes a habit: forming memories with Dream. He loses so many, his book only has so many pages, and his hand can only write so much before the fingers sting and cramp. But through this, it’s more than just writing down events: this is stuff he <em> needs </em> to remember, wants it so bad it stings like rain and bites like fire. Is it so wrong to want to learn? To experience?</p><p>Ghostbur is gone. L’Manberg’s gone. Talking to the survivors about it is a catastrophe waiting to happen: either he gets attacked or they have a break down, only one of which Ranboo is prepared for. </p><p>But Dream won’t break down. And even if he does, what’s the harm in that?</p><p>“So, wait, you’re telling me Tommy <em> killed you </em>?”</p><p>“It was with a minecart.” Dream dismisses. “I respawned and everything was fine. See? I’m not the <em> God </em> they make me out to be.”</p><p>Ranboo sits back. <em> Remember all the bad things he’s done. Remember </em>. “I’m pretty sure you started that God rumor yourself, Dream.”</p><p>“Pff, what?” Dream scoffs. “Ranboo, I’ve never pretended to be invincible. I’m just... good enough to concern people. Especially people who are my enemies.”</p><p>Ranboo raises an eyebrow. “Am I an enemy?”</p><p>“No, no. You haven’t done anything to me, I haven’t done anything to you.”</p><p>“You were gonna kidnap my cat and hold her over me.”</p><p>“I was doing that to <em> everyone </em>. I won’t do it now. I never even got to do it!”</p><p>“You outed my betrayal to everyone.”</p><p>“You said you didn’t need me to apologize for that!” Dream rationalized. Ranboo sits back in his seat. “Plus, they’re <em> your </em> actions, I just pointed them out. I didn’t <em> make </em> you give Techno his armor back, nor anything else you wrote down in your book.” Ranboo opens his mouth, but Dream continues. “Plus, it all worked out, didn’t it? Tubbo forgave you, and you two are still thick as thieves. Right?”</p><p>“...right.” Ranboo stares at the table top, thinking. </p><p>“See? If anything, I did you a favor. Imagine if those secrets had stayed hidden, just… <em> festering </em> in your brain.” Dream’s voice gets a silky smooth lilt, as if he’s telling a bedtime story. “Constantly worried about what they know and what they don’t. How they’ll react, how they’ll kick you out.”</p><p>Ranboo gulps. It doesn’t make the silence any more bearable. </p><p>“Imagine that!” Dream interrupts. </p><p>“Yeah, imagine.” Ranboo mumbles. </p><p>“Thank god I revealed it when I did: there was too much happening for them to get mad. If it got revealed <em> now </em> ? <em> Everyone </em> would be talking about it.” Dream’s head tilts back, as if coming to a sudden, shocking revelation. “Who <em> knows </em>how that could’ve swayed Tubbo’s opinion.”</p><p>“Yeah, crazy.” Ranboo mutters. </p><p>“Maybe he would’ve listened when Quackity told him to execute you.”</p><p>Ranboo’s head jerks up, thoughts skidding to a stop. “Quackity wanted to—“</p><p>Dream raises his hands up in surrender. “You can ask him yourself if you want: I’m sure Sam can point you in the right direction.”</p><p>“I…” Ranboo fades off. </p><p>Just the idea of visiting Quackity already terrified him, what, with his recruitment speech after doomsday. But now, after finding out that Quackity wanted him <em> dead? </em></p><p>He remembers the way Quackity stared at him during the festival. Brown eyes, normally so lively, nearly dead. Narrowed in suspicion, and otherwise a void of cold determination. The way he watched Ranboo, unblinking, while everyone else laughed together and played the games he and Fundy had worked so hard on. It made Ranboo second guess everything, made him want to flee to his panic room and <em> cry </em>.</p><p>It makes sense, he thinks, that Quackity would jump to kill him. He was on Schlatt’s administration, wasn’t he? The vice president. He was probably right there when Tubbo was executed at the last festival. Maybe he even knew about it.</p><p>How long had he been planning it? Did he smile behind that cheerful mask of his, thinking about repeating history, forcing another traitor a public death?</p><p>He could ask him. He could. He could see him right now: he still lives with Karl, if Ranboo remembers right. Could confirm Dream’s words so, so easily. </p><p>But…</p><p>Dream was right about Purpled, wasn’t he? That, at least, got him an ally. By Quackity? Quackity, who hates him, who doesn't trust him, who, according to Dream, wanted him <em> dead? </em> Confronting <em> him </em> with the knowledge of the unfinished festival’s unknown finale?</p><p>“I’ll take you word for it.” Ranboo says, sure. </p><p>Dream hums. The words sit in the air for a second, before Dream suddenly asks, “How’s Karl been doing? I hope he’s not too mad about party island getting destroyed: I tried to save as much of it as I could.”</p><p>The rest of the visit is a blur of questions and hazy answers. Ranboo leaves early, rushing through leaving so quickly he nearly forgets his stuff in his locker. His thoughts are so<em> loud </em>, he can’t concentrate on anything else. </p><p>For the life of him, Ranboo can’t get Quackity’s burning glare out of his head. His breath comes out short, his hands shaking, and he’s back on the edge of the ice rink. The feeling of bugs crawling up his arms makes him shiver, and he closes his eyes, trying to block out a phantom lifeless gaze. </p><p>A voice in the back of his head whispers: <em> Tubbo was gonna kill you. If L’Manberg was still standing, you would be dead. Ask him. Ask him. See what he answers.  </em></p><p>The voice sounds so much louder than before. </p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>The sun is reflecting off the snow when Ranboo wakes up to Enderchest kneading his shirt. He sighs, petting the purring cat and blinking himself awake. He’s at home, for once, and it's late enough in the day to actually see smoke coming from Techno’s house. </p><p>He shoos Enderchest away, standing up and stretching. He grabs his coat, putting on his armor over the suit. When he looks back, Enderchest has made herself at home in the warm spot he’s just vacated. </p><p>
  <em> So cute.  </em>
</p><p>He’s on his way to the nether portal, already planning out his day, when he spots a familiar forest green. </p><p>“Oh, hey, Phil!” He calls. His voice carries across the tundra, reaching where Phil seems to be examining a lava lake. For a new project, no doubt.</p><p>Phil turns, his passive expression lighting up into a grin. “Ranboo!” He calls, jogging over. “Long time no see, mate. Where ‘ave you been off doing the past.” Phil trills his lips as he thinks. “Jesus, nearly two months! I’ve only seen you around here twice since your and Techno’s last totem adventure.”</p><p>“Oh, uh.” Ranboo plays with the cuffs of his suit, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how busy I’ve been. It’s not intentional, I promise.” </p><p>
  <em> That’s a lie, you’re avoiding them because they’re keeping secrets from you. What are they planning? They’re gonna kick you out, I promise.  </em>
</p><p>Ranboo clears his throat, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts. “What have you and Techno been doing?”</p><p>“Oh you know,” Phil tilts his head from side to side. “This and that. Fixing up the bee farm, building up my own base: I can’t mooch off Techno forever, you know?”</p><p>“He would totally let you.” Ranboo says. Phil laughs, nodding. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Sweet kid.” He smiles to himself, then looks up. “What about you, mate?”</p><p>“Hanging out with Tubbo, mostly. Lots of Tubbo.” Ranboo rocks on his heels, debating whether he should continue. Well, they <em> did </em>work with Dream to blow up L’Manberg, sooo… “I’ve, uh, actually been visiting Dream. Learning stories about the SMP and stuff.”</p><p>Phil smiles, laughing. “I heard he got thrown in jail. How’s he doing?”</p><p>“Okay, right now.” Ranboo answers, smiling to himself. He’s missed Phil’s attention. “I think he was lonely. He might still be.”</p><p>“Yeah, I bet.” Phil says. The bag on his back is filled to the brim, and his wings are twitching. Thanks to the L’Manberg explosion, the wings are still merely echoes of the former thick, gray wings that Ranboo has only seen in the picture next to Techno’s bed, but Ranboo thinks they look like they’re itching to fly. Ranboo suddenly gets the feeling he should end this conversation. “I’m sure he’s happy to have a friend, Ranboo.”</p><p>“Yeah, I think so too.” Ranboo smiles, unsure of what he’s feeling. “See you later, Phil.”</p><p>“Bye, Ranboo!”</p><p>He watches Phil walk into the snowy tundra and wonders why he feels disappointed at Phil’s reaction. What did he want, disapproval? Disappointment? A big explosive fight? To lose <em> another </em>friend?</p><p>His feet carry him on a familiar path through the nether, then across a path of soul sand, until the biting chill of Snowchester makes his eyes water. </p><p>(Not literally, of course. That would be painful. Ranboo’s honestly not sure what liquid his eyes are made of, but he’s too afraid to ask the universe in case Tubbo hears; he <em> really </em>doesn’t want more experiments done.</p><p>Especially since, sometimes, when he cries, the tears burn like lava, leaving marks on his cheeks that last for days. He doesn’t know what Tubbo would do with that information, but he <em> definitely </em>doesn't want to find out.)</p><p>Jack is on the roof of the nuclear base, messing around with decor. Ignoring that mess waiting to happen, Ranboo looks around, spotting and waving to Foolish, who looks to be adding more lanterns around the camp. Foolish looks up, wide eyed, then awkwardly pretends to hear someone calling for him. Ranboo watches him sprint away. </p><p>Strange person, that Foolish. He should really formally meet the guy. </p><p>“‘You seen Tubbo?” He yells up toward Jack, finding no way to avoid it and too lazy to look around <em> all </em> of Snowchester.</p><p>“Busy!” Jack shouts down. “Too busy for you. Or me. Come back later! Also- you’re not allowed inside the building. Don’t ask why.”</p><p>“...okay.” Ranboo says, voice neutral. He’s definitely confused, but getting in a debate with Jack right now just sounds exhausting. “Is there anyone else around?”</p><p>“Umm.” Jack stops whatever he was doing, the sound of stone hitting stone stopping. Then 3D glasses peak over the edge of the building, narrowing in on the hybrid immediately. “I think Tommy might be robbing Tubbo or something. Go bother him. Bye.” Jack says, curt, then goes back to whatever he’s planning for the roof of their weird, nuclear building.</p><p>When Ranboo goes and checks, Tommy is, in fact, pillaging Tubbo’s chests. </p><p>“I thought you weren’t stealing anymore?” Ranboo asks. Tommy jumps a foot in the air, whirling around to look at Ranboo standing by the doorway. His eyes are wide, and he instinctively pulls out and swings his sword in Ranboo’s direction. Wooden chests hit his back as he instinctively dodges.</p><p>“<em> Jesus </em> , man. Make noise when you walk! Christ.” Tommy shakes his head, brushing his hair back nervously. He looks chipper, despite the panic fading from his eyes, which makes Ranboo cautious. There are very few things that make Tommy <em> that </em> happy...</p><p>“Why are you stealing from Tubbo?” Ranboo asks, wary. </p><p>“Pfff, <em> stealing </em> .” Tommy laughs awkwardly. “What gave you that idea, big man? The big one. Big <em> R </em>, that’s who you are.” Tommy rambles. Ranboo can’t help but stifle a smile.</p><p>Ever since Tommy’s stopped his obsessive visits to Dream’s cell, he’s grown more relaxed. Ranboo hasn’t seen him much, mostly because he’s been working on some big project close to spawn. Right smack in the middle of the place Ranboo has been avoiding. </p><p>“Need supplies for your big project?” He asks, genuinely curious. He hasn’t heard much about it: according to Puffy — who passed through Snowchester to restock just a few days ago — there’s a big tarp blocking everything, with a huge fence around the area blocking any snoopers. As far as Ranboo knows, the only people who know what’s behind the tarp are Sam, who’s managing the build, and Tommy himself.</p><p>“Nah,” Tommy shrugs, looking weirdly self conscious. “Sam’s, um, Sam Nook’s been makin’ me get all the supplies me-self.” </p><p>“Oh, okay.” Ranboo says, eyebrows raising. </p><p>Tommy? Doing things for himself? Because <em> Sam </em> told him to? Not even <em> Tubbo </em> can make Tommy do things. Even basic things like mining and doing things for himself that aren't stealing. Speaking of—</p><p>“Does Tubbo even know you're here?” </p><p>“‘Course he does.” Tommy waves him off, stuffing his hands into too-full pockets. “Does he know <em> you’re </em> here, <em> hmmm </em>?”</p><p>Ranboo blinks. “Uh, no, actually.”</p><p>“Well, look at you! Being all hypocritical and shit— that’s my new word, <em> hypocritical </em>. Means you’re being a right dick.”</p><p>“That’s-That’s not what hypocritical means—“</p><p>“I’ve been trying to use more words, you know. Techno — back when I didn’t hate the guy’s guts, fuck that guy — would use big words <em> all the time </em> and people think he’s fuckin’ smart. He’s not, by the way, he’s a dumb <em> bitch </em>.” Tommy laughs at himself. </p><p>Ranboo awkwardly listens to the rambles, wondering if he should stop Tommy from pocketing a bit more coal and a bunch of logs. </p><p>“Well, if this isn’t for the project— Actually, what <em> is </em> the project?” Ranboo asks. Tommy, who had been muttering more insults for Technoblode under his breath, cuts himself off, bouncing on his heels as his excitement grows. </p><p>“I’m building a <em> hotel </em> , Ranboo. Oh, it’s gonna be so great. You see, Sam Nook — you know Sam, creeper guy? He’s been being my <em> Tom Nook </em>lately. He’s really weird, that guy.” Tommy says, though it’s oddly fond. He still hasn’t stopped bouncing, and Ranboo can’t help but smile at Tommy’s pure excitement. </p><p>He’s gonna be real, though, he has no clue who or what a Tom Nook is. </p><p>“The Bois’ say you’re being weird and quiet. Why are you being weird and quiet, <em> Ranboob </em>?”</p><p>“Don’t call me that.” Ranboo signs, frowning. It takes him a second to decode the rest of what Tommy said, until he remembers that Tommy has the thing Techno and Phil have: the voices in his head. </p><p>(Ranboo has one voice, sometimes. No he doesn’t. Yes you do. No I don’t. Yes I do.)</p><p>There’s a surprising number of people like that here. Back in Hypixel, Ranboo can't remember meeting anyone with <em> voices </em> . Though, his memory <em> is </em> pretty bad. Maybe it’s just more common than he realized. </p><p>“Uh, I’m just acting like myself. Maybe they just aren’t used to people who can be quiet once in a while.” Ranboo jokes. Tommy scoffs, but Ranboo can hear the smile in his voice. </p><p>“Yeah, chat’s not full of <em> Technoblade Lame-os </em> , are you chat?” Tommy stares off into the distance for a second, then laughs. “That’s what I <em> thought </em>!”</p><p>Ranboo shifts in place awkwardly. Phil usually goes and takes a walk if he needs to talk to the voices, and Technoblade is always half monologuing when he talks anyway, so there’s no real difference when he talks to them or when rambles out loud as he gets something done: so even though Ranboo is aware of their existence, he still doesn't know how to act when the voices are acknowledged. Especially with how flippantly Tommy does it. </p><p>“You’ve been visiting Dream lately, have you?” Tommy asks. Ranboo jolts. How does he—</p><p>“Uh, yeah. I have.” </p><p>“Huh.” Tommy says, looking up at him fully. “You’re so fuckin’ tall— no, that’s not what I wanted— Ranboo.” Tommy shakes his head, then stares straight into Ranboo’s eyes. “This is important, so listen up,” Ranboo looks to the floor. </p><p>
  <em> This is it. This is where he tells you to leave. That you were a terrible friend and a worse person. That you will only be remembered by your failures. </em>
</p><p><em> Or, worse than that: he tells you </em> exactly <em> what Dream said to make him stop going. Haven’t you been thinking about it? What did he say that made Tommy so angry that you weren’t allowed to comfort him? That’s what you keep telling yourself, that he was too angry. But what if he wasn’t angry at Dream? </em></p><p>
  <em> What if he was angry at you? </em>
</p><p>Tommy’s gaze still lingers, still stares. Ranboo shuffled uncomfortably, hunched in on himself as he waits for a blow he hopes won’t come. </p><p>“You should stop.” Tommy finally says, sounding firm. Quiet. Tommy is never quiet.</p><p>“...What?” Ranboo’s eyebrows knit. </p><p>“You need to stop visiting him.”</p><p>“Wh—Why?” Ranboo asks, half confused, half uncomfortable.  </p><p>“‘Cause he’s a fuckin’ <em> liar </em> , Ranboo. You know that. You’re one of the only people who know that.” Tommy looks so earnest, his eyebrows knitting and him mouth pursing in what might be annoyance. “You remember that, right? You wrote me all those letters, you <em> had </em>to have written something in your book.”</p><p>“No, no, I remember, Tommy.” Ranboo assures. Tommy visibly deflates. “I just- I don’t think Dream has actually… lied to me.”</p><p>The silence fills the room. </p><p>“What. The fuck.” Tommy finally says. Ranboo half shrugs, his shoulders hunching. </p><p>“I-I’m not saying he’s not a bad person, Tommy. I’m not. Dream-Dream did terrible things to you, but-but I don’t think he’s, you know, lying. To me, at least.”</p><p>Tommy stares. It’s weird to see him stare. Out of everyone, Tommy was the first one to pick up on his aversion to eye contact, so he never pressured Ranboo to meet his eyes like some other members, just settled for talking toward air and closing his eyes when he accidentally looked in Ranboo’s direction. No one… well, Hypixel wasn’t as polite. As kind.</p><p>Tommy doesn’t look like he’s feeling kind.</p><p>“Is he manipulating you?” Tommy demands. Ranboo blinks.</p><p>“I…” </p><p>“Because I can’t think of a <em> single </em> other reason why you could be this stupid, Ranboo.” Tommy looks like he’s about to smile, and for a second Ranboo thinks the tension will dissolve. That he’ll be alright. Then Tommy’s eyes drift to the side, like he’s listening to something Ranboo can’t hear, and when he looks back his shoulders are tense again. “Unless... Unless you're working with him.</p><p>Ranboo steps back. “<em> What?” </em>he snaps, shocked. “Tommy, what are you—”</p><p>“Why else would you say something so-so <em> wrong? </em> Dream lies about <em> everything </em>, Ranboo. He spins them like a fucking web, you just don’t know. You haven't seen it yet. I-I don’t know what he told you, Ranboo, but you can’t believe him. Dream doesn't do or say things out of the kindness of his heart.”</p><p>“What does that even mean?” Ranboo asks, shaking his head. “I’m not <em> working with Dream </em> , Tommy. Who reminded you of all the awful things he did before every visit? Who got you your own memory book? Who stayed by your side even when you were <em> exiled?” </em> Ranboo clutches his white undershirt, walking forward. “I’m <em> your </em> friend, Tommy. I’m loyal to you. I promise, Tommy, I wouldn’t do that to you or Tubbo, I’ve just been going... it’s more curiosity— it's not about— Tommy, are you even listening??”</p><p>Tommy stares at the floor. When Ranboo chances a quick glance at his eyes, he’s shocked to see the shine. Tommy— Tommy’s nearly—</p><p>Voice a chilling echo of exile, Tommy says, “You sound just like him.”</p><p>Ranboo steps back. They stand in Tubbo’s house, on opposing sides once again. Ranboo’s chosen a side, hasn’t he? Did he? Is standing up for yourself choosing a side?</p><p>“Don’t talk to me until you’ve stopped visiting him.” Tommy says shortly, staring at the ground. His lips are pursed, a frown maring his previous cheer. </p><p>“Tommy.” Ranboo shakes his head, mouth firm. “You can’t make me do that.”</p><p>“Fuckin’ watch me.” Tommy mutters, turning around and walking into the cold. Ranboo watches him go. </p><p>The tense air doesn’t settle for several more minutes, and it takes several more for Ranboo to realize his claws have sunk into his palms again. He unclenches them slowly, looking down and watching purple blood drip down his fingers. </p><p>He’s outside, crossing the soulspeed highway, walking over the hills and following the path until he gets to the run-down community house. The white and gray, glittering portal still sits, even amongst the rubble. Ranboo ignores the itch the place gives him, keeping his eyes down as he crosses the barrier between worlds. </p><p>The loud streets of Hypixel make his claws extend, but he doesn’t hide them like he does in the SMP. Instead he stands as tall as he dares, and shoots a message to his newest friend. </p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>“You’re late.” </p><p>Ranboo rolls his eyes, too tired to be amused.  “You’re stuck in a cell, how do you know I’m <em> late?” </em> Ranboo asks, incredulous. Dream gestures to the clock behind him with his thumb. Ranboo sighs. “Right.”</p><p>Ranboo feels eyes track him, but he can’t find the energy to feel uncomfortable. He’s felt a lot of eyes the past ten hours— holy, he was there for <em> ten hours? </em>He blinks, but the clock on te wall doesn’t magically move. He finally looks away, shocked. Somewhere behind the glass, Dream hums. </p><p>“Long night?” He asks. Ranboo shrugs, leaning forward so he can rest his chin on where his arms are folded, the table becoming a make-shift pillow. </p><p>“You could say that.” Ranboo dodges. Dream chuckles, jutting his chin out.</p><p>“You still have dust on your sleeves.” </p><p>Ranboo scrambles to sit up, checking the sleeves of his suit. They’re clean, the coal-black they should be. When he looks up, Dream has rolled, laying on his side as he clutches his stomach, cackling loudly. </p><p>“Oh my— the look on your <em> face </em>—” Dream breaks into a wheeze. Ranboo shuffles in the chair, frowning. </p><p>“Shut up.” he mutters, still checking his sleeves for player-dust. He <em> knows </em> he cleaned them off before coming here, he dealt with the water himself, but Dream’s comment still worries him. </p><p>“Don't want anyone to know, right? That you went off and murdered kids in Hypixel?” Dream asks. Ranboo purses his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” </p><p>“Oh, thanks.” Ranboo says, half sarcastic.</p><p>“I mean, who would I tell anyway: Sam? Bad?” Dream scoffs. “Neither of them would care. Actually, <em> nobody </em>would care here: Ant travels to Hypixel to meet with his boyfriend all the time. Techno’s a ranked fighter there, and that’s not why people hate him. What’s with all the worry, Ranboo?”</p><p>Leg bouncing to an invisible beat underneath the table, Ranboo wonders how he got to this point. Where his only person to confide in is <em> Dream </em> . Even worse, the fact that he’s <em> considering it.  </em></p><p>“You get in a fight or something? Start a war?” Dream cocks his head. Ranboo can’t decide if it’s mocking or curious. </p><p>“Maybe.” Ranboo mutters</p><p>“Really! What is this, the second time you've done that?” Dream asks. Ranboo glares. “I'm only teasing. Tubbo and Tommy have started, like, six, so don't even worry.”</p><p>“I didn’t start a war,” he elaborates. Dream hums, and Ranboo’s mouth starts moving. “Just— got in an argument, is all. It’s <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>“Doesn’t seem very fine.” Dream stands up and, for the first time, walks to the table. It mirrors the one Ranboo sits in, just on the other side of the glass, and has remained untouched during their visits. Dream pulls out the chair, sitting down and relaxing. </p><p>Dream looks different, up close like this. This is the closest they’ve been since their first visit, before Dream was moved to the courtyard. His clothes look filthy, and Ranboo finally notices two bracelets around Dream’s too-thin wrists. They look high tech, definitely the work of Sam. </p><p>“What was it about?” Dream interrupts Ranboo’s thoughts. When Ranboo gives him a blank look, he prompts, “the fight, what was it about?”</p><p>Ranboo frowns. “It was… I was…”</p><p>“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. I can see it's personal.” Dream raises his hands up innocently. “Why are you so caught up on it? No offense, but normally you kinda… forget that stuff.”</p><p>“True.” Ranboo laughs, though it's more self-deprecating than intended. “Very true. Um, it’s about what they said, I guess. They-They said I couldn’t talk to them until I did something. But They can’t make me do that thing, so… so we’re not talking. Anymore. Possibly for a long time.”</p><p>Ranboo stares at the floor. <em> That’s good, vague. He has no clue it's about him. Just a misunderstanding between friends that totally doesn't have to do with the probably-evil tyrant in front of you. </em></p><p>“Not Tubbo, I hope.” Dream tilts his head, looking over. Ranboo blinks. Is that care? Manipulation? Shoot, Tommy definitely got in his head.</p><p>“K-Kinda. Not really.” Ranboo says, wincing. Nice job, could you be any more obvious?</p><p>Dream hums, and Ranboo waits for the guess. It doesn’t come. “Do you think they’re doing that because they care or because they want to control you?”</p><p>“...what?”</p><p>“Well,” Dream’s tone lilts, half soft, half something Ranboo can’t identify, “if <em> I </em> said that to someone then it would be labeled as controlling. <em> Evil </em>. Is this any different?”</p><p>“<em> Yes </em>, yes, it’s different.” Ranboo shakes his head, multicolored hair falling into his eyes. It’s gotten a bit long. Ranboo searches for an excuse, a reason. “He— They’re just worried, I guess.”</p><p>“Do you hate them?” Dream asks. Ranboo shakes his head. “Do you think they hate you?”</p><p>The silence feels too loud. </p><p>“No one could ever hate you, Ranboo.” Dream assures, letting his head fall back. “Even with everything you’ve done, people still seem to love you.” </p><p>Ranboo stomach drops. “...What do you mean, ‘everything I’ve ever done’?” </p><p>“Oh, you know,” Dream’s smile peaks through the side of his mask as he stares at the obsidian ceiling. “You started the worst rivalry between a flower shop and an ice cream shop this server has ever seen.”</p><p>“Oh.” Ranboo sits back. “I thought…” He feels eyes searching for something he doesn't want found, so he switches the topic. “You know about that?”</p><p>“I told you, Ranboo, I pay attention. Just because you don’t see <em> me </em> doesn’t mean I won’t hear about it.” Dream says. </p><p>Ranboo nods, and wonders why that sentence makes him feel so sick. He stares at the floor, grimacing as he searches for the reason acid is swirling up his throat and his eyes feel hazy. Then Dream asks a question, and things… blank out for a bit.</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tommy is very mad at me. No, worried. Worried for me. He wants me to stop visiting Dream. Went and saw Purpled in Hypixel. Dream knows so much, much more than originally thought. Why does he know so much? Why does he still know? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The visit was otherwise very nice :) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>As much as he would like to pretend the increase in mining visits and trips to see Purpled have been completely coincidental, he can’t lie to himself. He misses Snowchester, he does, but missing it isn’t going to stop him from avoiding the people within it.</p><p>He hasn’t seen or talked to Tubbo since the <em> Tommy </em> incident five days ago. Since then he’s spent all of his free time at the prison, or killing newbies with Purpled. He’s nearly at eighth now, which makes Purpled roll his eyes whenever they pass the scoreboard, muttering about how Ranboo’s <em> trying to steal my spot </em>. Still, he looks weirdly proud, so Ranboo hasn't let the snide remarks get to him. </p><p>But Purpled is busy today, building something in the part of the SMP Ranboo is now avoiding even more than he was previously. Sam has vistations closed, and Ranboo doesn’t want to spend another afternoon zoning out in the mines.</p><p>Honestly, his feet carried him here, not his mind. He’s on a cliff near Snowchester, one that overlooks the sunset, the ocean far, far below him. If he squints, he can make out the shadow the prison casts on the water. </p><p>He’s kicking his feet as he thinks, letting his legs swing over the edge. He’s sitting, his hands in his lap and his back hunched, tail curled around his hips. He feels stuck, his body rooted to the ground.</p><p>Footsteps crunch in the snow, light and distinct. Ranboo stiffens, but he’s not brave enough to run away before the footsteps reach him. He waits, and eventually a pair of brown, fur-coated boots join him, swinging over the edge and starting their own small swinging arcs.</p><p>“Heard you got in a fight with Tommy.”</p><p>Tubbo sounds light. Non-accusatory. Ranboo barely trusts it.</p><p>“Didn’t mean to.” Ranboo kicks, letting his leg <em> thump </em>against the cliff. Dirt crumbles beneath the force. “‘You here to tell me you can’t talk to me either?”</p><p>“What? No.” Tubbo shakes his head. Ranboo looks over, looking at Tubbo in his peripheral. “I’m here because you’re my friend, and you look like you could use a shoulder to vent to.”</p><p>Ranboo laughs at the odd phrasing, low and more of a breath of air than anything, but it makes his shoulders slump and his legs stop kicking. </p><p>“So you’re not choosing his side?” He asks, tentative. Tubbo is silent for a few seconds, staring at the clouds. </p><p>“You know, someone I know taught me that, maybe, choosing sides isn't always the best idea.” Tubbo bumps his shoulder, smiling.</p><p>Ranboo’s mouth drops open without his consent, and he can’t get over his awe enough to close it. He stares at the brown haired boy, someone who’s become the closest person Ranboo has to a best friend. The person he always thought he would be the second best to. That, when it came to it, Tubbo would choose Tommy and leave him behind.</p><p>He laughs, awed and quiet. He wasn’t second best. For once, Ranboo wasn’t left behind.</p><p>“That person is you, by the way.” Tubbo stage whispers. Ranboo laughs louder, throwing his head back. When he settles again, Tubbo is smiling, full of teeth and, Ranboo thinks, pride. </p><p>“I know, Tubbo. I know.”</p><p>“Glad you didn’t forget that, <em> Memory Boy.” </em></p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>“Ranboo?”</p><p>He blinks, looking up from the floor and taking in the glass wall between him and Dream. He smiles awkwardly. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a second; what were you saying?”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter, too hard to summarize if you weren't paying attention.” Dream stretches. He’s sitting on the bed today, instead of the floor, legs folded and boots taken off, hidden somewhere under the bed, likely. “I actually had a question for you, Ranboo.”</p><p>“Oh.” Ranboo says. The past few visits have been more idle conversations with stories from Dream: It’s been awhile since Dream’s had something he wants to ask. “Go for it.”</p><p>“It might be, um,” Dream hesitates. “Offensive, I think. I’m not totally sure.”</p><p>Ranboo blinks. “Okay?” He says, bewildered. </p><p>“You’re, like— you’re a hybrid, right?” Dream asks, words stilted and careful. Ranboo nods. “You’re-You’re half endermen, you mentioned that on the second visit, that your favorite block is grass and you wonder if it might be genetic.”</p><p>“Yeah, I—“ Ranboo laughs slightly. “I guess I did mention that. Yeah, I’m half endermen.”</p><p>“Can I ask, uh, what’s your other half?”</p><p>“Oh.” Ranboo says dumbly. He guesses he should have expected this question at some point, especially since he’s constantly getting interrogated by Tubbo about the exact same thing. </p><p>“Sorry, did I cross the line? Ant told me it’s not polite to ask hybrids about being hybrids, but it’s-it’s been on my mind a lot, and you’re usually so cool about stuff. So.” </p><p>“No, no,” Ranboo assures. “It’s fine. It’s just— you're gonna get a lame answer cause I, uh, I don’t really know.” Ranboo scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s a lame answer, so you can ask another question.”</p><p>Dream pauses for a few seconds. “You really don’t know?” Ranboo shakes his head, grimacing. Hesitantly, Dream continues,“Why… why don’t you know?”</p><p>“Well,” Ranboo hums. “I know I’m half endermen because, you know, I look half endermen. But it’s also— I feel emotional pain when an enderman dies. It’s-It’s like if I saw Tubbo or someone <em> die- </em>die, you know?” </p><p>Ranboo shivers at the reminder. Tubbo killed one in front of him the other day, asked him if it was his long-lost cousin while he did it, laughing as it screamed. Ranboo knows he doesn’t- that he doesn’t realize. Only Phil has ever apologized, making sure he has the chance to look away and plug his ears. Lets him at least prepare himself for the murder of his brethern. </p><p>Ranboo clears his throat, blinking tears away, “I-I can talk to them, too, if they want to stop and chat. They’re comforting, like, like a family.” He smiles. A family. He can’t remember having a family, but… it’s what he imagines having a family is like. </p><p>“Endermen do travel in packs.” Dream offers, neutral. “A haunting, I think it’s called.”</p><p>“A haunting.” Ranboo mutters, trying to commit the term to memory. When he looks up, Dream’s head is cocked. </p><p>“So there’s nothing else that makes you feel like that? Not even humans?”</p><p>Ranboo shakes his head. “Nope. Nothing.”</p><p>The silence sits between them. It’s not uncomfortable, but as Ranboo sneaks glances at Dream, he feels like there’s something in the room that’s being unsaid. Dream just stares at the wall, wrinkles in the corner of his eyes visible from this angle. Ranboo stares at them, wondering what Dream is thinking about. Watches the way his index finger twitches, drawing back an invisible bow string.</p><p>His communicator buzzes: a message from Purpled. <em> Look I know you’re done with your angst fest so you don’t need to visit to avoid anyone, but I need a partner for a tournament and there's no under rank 30s on. Can you join? </em></p><p>Well, that’s certainly a reason to leave early.</p><p>“I, okay, this is kinda a bad time to do this, but I actually have to go, so I’ve got to cut this short.” Ranboo gets up, pushing in the chair. He gives Dream a small, awkward wave, “Uh, it was nice talking to you, Dream.”</p><p>He’s nearly at the door, has his hands reached out to pull it open and everything, when Dream says;</p><p>“I could, uh, help you. If you want.”</p><p>Ranboo’s whirls around, his jaw slack. </p><p>Still sitting against the wall, Dream is eerily still. He scratches patterns into his jeans. “Look, I’m aware of the shit hybrids go through, okay? I’ve never, <em> ever </em> participated in that bullshit, but I know about it: Ant you know? I get if you're not, uh, comfortable sharing that part of yourself.” Dream stops carving patterns, raising his hands up, as if defeated. “You have Tubbo and Tommy anyways, what do you need me for?”</p><p>Ranboo forces himself to breath evenly. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I do.” The lie rolls off his tongue, and Ranboo faintly wonders if there’s any truth in it at all. “Thanks for the offer, though, Dream. It means a lot.”</p><p>“Sure, Ranboo.” Dream says, voice in that strange lilt again. “The offer’s not expiring, by the way. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Dream jokes, gesturing to the obsidian walls. Ranboo chuckles awkwardly, unsure of how to respond, so he doesn’t. </p><p>The realm portal glitters in the community house, still unchained. And even though he’s excited to see Purpled, he’s not sure the light feeling in his chest, the way his tail is higher than it normally is, perking up and wagging like he’s a <em> dog </em>, is all because of the invite. In fact, he’s worried that his brain is truly just easily swayed by some interest and some encouraging words.</p><p>He does <em> not </em>need Dream’s help.</p><p>He has Tubbo. Yeah, Tubbo experiments on him, and seems to ask all the wrong questions and do things that are a bit further than just offensive. But Tubbo is his friend, and he just wants to help, right? And what’s Dream, just some bored guy who would rather complete the impossible task of decoding the genetics of an abandoned hybrid than go crazy in a tiny prison cell? At least Tubbo has a <em> reason </em> to help him. </p><p>He has Tubbo. He doesn’t need Dream’s help. He has Tubbo.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, this story is sitting at a comfortable 20k in my drafts, and it's for sure gonna be 5 chapters. Chapter 4 is almost done, so it should be out soon! Writing Tubbo and Ranboo interacting has become one of my favorite things. There will probably be another Hypixel scene in the future, since I just cant seem to resist writing them. Maybe this will have a sequal, maybe not: Kinda just depends on how much you all like the ending :)</p><p>Edit: A section of the new chapter was submitted to Ranboo’s writing contest! Unfortunately I can’t post until the voting it done, but it should be complete by the end of April (max)! As soon as I’m allowed, I will be posting the new chapter! In the meantime, the past chapters are gonna be edited.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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